FUBAR
by Scoobert0
Summary: The boys face off against a strange new enemy that can't be killed and will kill anything that moves. With Cas' help, will they be able to defeat this monster? Or will they lose their angel in the process?


**AN: So, while I've been working on this for awhile now, I'm just going to post it as a bit of celebration since as of today, I've had my FF .net account for a year! *Insert joyous screams, confetti and cupcake pies here***

**But yeah, this started out as crack, then got serious, then got a little funny again, then stupid and hopefully I've ended it on an amusing note now. Since there was a fair amount of subtext throughout this, I ended up making it a pre-slash type deal, so if you don't like that, don't read the ending I guess. Or read it at all. To each their own.**

**Anywho, there's going to be a second AN at the end of this explaining a few things for my other stories, so if you feel it concerns you, there's that.**

**DISCLAIMER: I unfortunately own nothing, cause if I did, everything would be gay and nothing would hurt.**

**WARNING: Un-beta'd, forgive all spelling/grammar/formatting errors, I've had 3 glasses of wine so far tonight.**

There's a term used within the military for when a mission exceeds its parameters and gets out of hand. Dean thought it described their current predicament perfectly.

"This shit is so FUBAR!" He shouted at his brother as ducked for cover behind a stack of crates. The place he had just been occupying exploded seconds later. He heard Sam chuckle at the term before being cut off. Carefully, Dean poked his head around the far side of his shelter to see what happened. The feeling of worry in his gut subsided slightly when he saw that nothing had happened to his younger sibling apart from him hiding behind a different block of crates.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have to agree with that." The brunette yelled back just before an explosion went off several feet away from his position.

There was a flutter of wings next to Dean's hiding spot, causing the hunter to relax a little. Back-up had finally arrived. Turning to his right, he came face-to-face with the angel's knees. An upward glance confirmed that the idiot was standing upright, giving their enemy a clear shot at him.

"Get your ass down here!" Dean growled at him, grabbing a fistful of trench coat and pulling down. He was relieved when the angel actually complied and squatted down next to him.

"It's a Big Face." Castiel stated hollowly, eyes wide with shock as he looked at the hunter.

"Yeah, I know."

"It's a big, two-dimensional face." The angel repeated, eyes going even wider; if that were even possible.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know. Like how to kill it maybe? That would be very useful." Dean shouted over the horrible screeching sound the Big Face was now making. Cas, however, had the heels of his hands pressed against his ears tightly. The hunter's brow furrowed in worry. Sure, the sound was loud and obnoxious, but it wasn't that bad, not like an angel's true voice. But evidently it had the same kind of effect on the angel.

When the noise cut out, Castiel lowered his hands with a shaky sigh, his arms trembling slightly. Dean shifted his crouch and put a hand on the angel's shoulder, getting his attention. He opened his mouth to find what the hell was going on when something bumped into his back. Spinning around, weapon at the ready, he was relieved to see that it was only Sam.

"I think FUBAR is starting to be an understatement here." The younger Winchester said as he scooted past his brother and caught sight of the angel, "Hey Cas, where've you been?" Noting the small trickle of blood coming from his ears he added, "You alright?"

"Fine." He grunted before looking at Sam with a curious expression, "What is FUBAR?" He asked innocently.

Dean snorted before providing the answer, "It's an acronym. Means, Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition."

"I see."

"You alright dude? First you go bug eyed over the…"

"Big Face."

"Wait, that's what it's actually called?"

"Yes."

"Well that's stupid. Anyways, first you freak out about it then act like a human would when you angels use your true voices on us. What's going on Cas?" Dean allowed a little worry to sound in his voice as he spoke.

The angel shifted nervously, actually flinching when an explosion went off near where Sam's former hiding spot had been. The brothers exchanged concerned looks with each other before focusing back on their friend. With a heavy sigh, Castiel looked up and opened his mouth,

"Big Faces are creatures from another dimension. They-"

"Another dimension? Like, what? Asgard? Is Thor going to come through the rainbow connection to save us?" Interrupted Dean, who immediately shrunk into himself at the death glare Cas was giving him, "I'll be quiet now."

"As I was trying to say, Big Faces are not of this realm. They are one of the few things in all of existence that can kill an angel without using an angel blade." Cas explained solemnly, minor concern showing on his face.

"Which would explain why you were freaked out and how it's screeching affected you." Sam said thoughtfully, pausing momentarily before continuing, "So is there any way to kill it?" He asked.

"Not that I am aware of."

"Great. What are we supposed to do now?" Dean grumbled angrily, "Cas, man, you should probably get out of here. If this thing can kill you, you shouldn't be taking unnecessary risks here."

"It can kill you just as easily, Dean. And it would be pointless for me to leave, it has seen me, sensed my Grace. It will hunt me down, following me anywhere I might go, including Heaven, until it finds me and kills me."

"Oh, great. So it's like a freaking Terminator. That's just awesome." The older hunter ground out with heavy sarcasm, rubbing a hand through his short hair in frustration.

"So since we can't kill it, what do we do?" Sam started after several minutes went by in silence, "We can't let that thing get out, it'll kill innocent people and go after angels."

"Actually, if it escapes, it will kill anything that moves." Castiel informed them matter-of-factly.

"This just keeps getting better and better." Mumbled Dean.

"Quiet." Ordered Cas suddenly, going completely still.

"You know, I'm getting really sick of you telling me to shut up." Dean told the angel grumpily, crossing his arms across his chest.

Cas shot him another glare. Dean was about to open his mouth to sass at him some more, but suddenly the smaller man was suddenly in front of him, pressing his sweaty palm over his lips. He struggled briefly to get the hand off his face, but a quick squeeze of pressure around his jaw stilled him. Sam squatted silently, smirking teasingly at his big brother's predicament.

The angel sat listening for something neither hunter could hear, but they strained their ears for it none the less. Cas' eyes went wide with worry once more, releasing Dean's face and moving towards the edge of the crates. They watched as he cautiously peeked around the corner in the direction of their enemy. His body shifted as he made to lean out further. Dean jumped forward and grabbed the back of his trench coat, pulling him back.

"The hell are you doing? Did you not just say that thing can kill you? You're gonna have to be more careful, you feather brain." He whispered angrily, pulling him back further. He was rewarded with a glare of doom, which made him gulp, but he didn't release his grip on the coat.

"I cannot sense it in the immediate area anymore, it has moved." The angel snipped at him, batting Dean's hand away.

"Wait, it moved? It didn't, you know, get out, did it?" Sam asked worriedly.

"No. I can sense that it is still within the boundaries of this warehouse. But if we don't vanquish it shortly, it will find its way out into the world." Cas reiterated calmly, standing and allowing his eyes to search the vast space around them.

"I thought you just said we can't kill this thing, how the hell are we supposed to vanquish it?" Dean asked aggressively, rising to his feet in tandem with his brother.

"I said I am not aware of any way to kill it, I am however aware of a ritual we can perform to send it back to where it came from. Although, the ritual itself calls for some… Unorthodox ingredients and acts." The angel explained a hint of annoyance in his voice. He opened his mouth to most likely explain further details of the ritual when a loud warbling noise filled the air. The Big Face appeared over the top of a stack of crates opposite of where the three men were standing. Dean froze as he took in the image of the thing, this being the first time he'd gotten a good look at it.

It had to be at least three and a half meters tall and two across. Cas had been right when he said the thing was two-dimensional, there was no depth to anything on it at all and it didn't look to be any thicker than a sheet of paper. And man was it ugly. Like a facelift gone horribly wrong kind of ugly. Then there was the fact that it was floating. Its flat eyes began to glow red as it began to vibrate violently.

Dean tripped as someone grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a run as Cas shouted, "Run!"

They sprinted away, stumbling when the space they had just been occupying exploded when the Big Face shot lasers out of its eyes. Using their best maneuvering skills, they bobbed and weaved their ways through countless boxes of assorted objects and things. As soon as the ungodly noise the Big Face was making died away, they stopped for a breather in a small alcove of boxes. Dean and Sam panted for breath, leaning against nearby crates with their hands on their knees. Castiel paced around them in a protective manner, much like a lioness with her cubs.

"So Cas, what is this ritual? What do we need for it?" Sam asked breathlessly as he pushed himself fully upright, still breathing hard.

"Everything we will need we should be able to find around here or on our persons." Cas said hesitantly, not ceasing his constant roaming.

"Dude, relax! You're making me nervous with all that pacing." Dean hissed at the angel, "Just tell us what we need so we can start looking for it."

Castiel stopped in his tracks, bringing a thumb up to his mouth. The brothers exchanged concerned looks when the angel started chewing on the nail. Finally he dropped his hand and turned to face them.

"We will need purple Kool-aid, fuzzy pipe cleaners, preferable neon colored ones, a smelly left shoe, something cream filled, and a pair of underwear." He told them in his most serious voice.

The brothers stared at him while their jaws tried to introduce themselves to the floor.

"No way. You're shitting us." Sam finally managed to choke out.

"As I said, it is a rather unorthodox ritual." Cas grated out, looking thoroughly embarrassed about it. _Or maybe about something he hadn't told them yet_, Dean thought.

"There's something else it needs, isn't there?" The hunter asked. He knew he was right when a blush crept up on the angel's face and Cas went back to chewing on his thumb again, "Yeah, there is. What is it Cas? Can't be that bad, can it?"

"I… It- the ritual also requires tears of an angel." Said celestial murmured, so softly that it was barely audible.

"Ok, that's not so bad really. I mean, we've all cried at one point or another." Sam reassured the angel, "Though some of us won't admit to it." He added, elbowing his brother lightly. Dean shoved his shoulder in return, making the taller man stumble a step. They were about to get into a full-out shoving match when Castiel cleared his throat, drawing both hunters' attention to him again.

"There in lies the problem, Sam. I- I have never, in all of my existence, cried. I am afraid I do not know how to." Cas confessed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and scuffing his shoe against the floor meekly.

"Oh." Breathed Sam, unsure of how to properly respond to a confession like that. He turned to Dean for help.

The older Winchester threw his hands up in the standard 'don't look at me for help on this' gesture. The three men were silent for several minutes as they thought up a solution for this newest problem.

"Does it need to be an emotional thing?" Dean inquired thoughtfully, pausing in his pacing. Cas shook his head.

"We could try onions then." The blond suggested.

"Maybe if we come across some, but look at this place, Dean, It's massive." Sam pointed out. Dean's brow furrowed and he shrugged. They all returned to brooding.

"Hey wait a minute!" Blurted Sam excitedly, drawing the attention of the others to himself, "Why don't you just tap into Jimmy's head and see what makes him cry?"

Cas was quiet for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, "Yes. I do believe that would work." He said finally, nodding to himself.

"Alright then. All we need now is all that crazy crap you listed off." Dean clapped his hands together, with a crooked grin on his face.

"Indeed. I think it will be best if we each search on our own. The less time we take gathering the supplies, the less risk there is of the Big Face escaping into the outside world." Castiel instructed.

"As much as I don't like the idea of us splitting up, you got a point." Dean reluctantly agreed, "But we stay in hearing range of each other, got it? If that thing shows up again, we immediately regroup."

"Understood." Cas confirmed, turning to walk away.

"Wait, hold up!" Sam called out, "I know people ship weird things all the time, but where are we going to get a smelly left shoe?"

The angel turned back and looked the younger Winchester in the eye with a nonchalant expression on his face, "I do believe yours will suffice Sam."

Dean snorted several feet away. Sam shot him a withering glare.

"What? Your shoes reek dude. Truth hurts." Dean pointed out with a laugh. Sam continued to glare at him, so he turned and headed down a narrow walkway between stacked up crates. The youngest Winchester huffed and set off on a different path.

Twenty minutes later, Dean and Sam met up. Between the both of them they had found everything the ritual called for except a pair of underwear. Together they started calling for Cas, who they hadn't heard from in awhile.

"Cas? Castiel, where are you? We got all the stuff!" Sam shouted, pausing to wait for a response.

"Cas! Get your feathery ass over here right now!" Dean contributed, shrugging off the bitchface Sam gave him.

Suddenly the horrible screeching noise the Big Face emitted filled the air. A second later, Cas came flying over the top of a tall stack of crates. He rammed into the boxes opposite and crashed down to the floor. Without a moment's hesitation he jumped to his feet, swaying slightly before he took off running drunkenly away from where the boys where standing.

The Big Face appeared over the towering cartons, obviously searching for its prey. Dean and Sam bolted after Cas before the thing could notice them. It let loose what could only be a scream of rage, which sent the hunters reeling to their knees, their hands covering their ears. Recovering quickly, they once more took off on their course.

As they rounded the corner, with Dean in the lead, the older Winchester suddenly went down. Upon hearing Sam's sharp intake of breath, he rolled onto his back and sat up before he was able to fully comprehend that he was on the ground. He swallowed thickly when he saw the reason for his fall.

Sprawled on the cement floor at his feet was Castiel. The angel had blood running from his ears, nose and eyes.

Scrambling to his knees, Dean crawled over to him and immediately searched for a pulse. He relaxed a little when he felt the strong beat of blood through the smaller man's veins. Taking Cas' head, he gently lifted it and sat it in his lap. Sam was crouched next to them, checking the angel for other wounds.

Dean proceeded to lightly their fallen friend on the cheek while wiping away some of the blood from his face, "C'mon Cas, open those baby blues buddy. You gotta wake up and tell us how to do this funky ritual of yours man, we don't have a clue what to do with this stuff." He encouraged.

Slowly the angel's eyes began to flicker open. After a couple attempts of opening them, he was able to keep them open, though Dean could tell he was having a hard time keeping them focused. Without a word he maneuvered the smaller man so that he was leaning against a side of a crate. He was able to hold himself upright for the most part, though every few seconds Dean had to straighten his frame.

"You will us man?" The older hunter questioned.

"Yes." Castiel's voice was even rougher than usual. He cleared his throat and tried again, "Yes, I am. Were you able to obtain all the ingredients for the ritual?"

"Yeah. Well, everything but underwear." Sam informed him.

"Hold on minute." Dean sighed heavily before standing up and going around the far end of their hideout, out of sight. He returned a minute later, holding a black pair of boxer briefs with one finger.

"Oh you didn't!" Disgust was heavy in Sam's outburst, his nose crinkling.

"Hey, I figured you're sacrificing your shoe for this, I might as well contribute. Plus I at least don't complain about having to run around commando like you do. Thought I'd save us from having to listen to your bitching about that." Dean explained, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

Sam was about to retort when Cas spoke up again, "It's fine. We need to begin, before the Big Face returns."

Dean watched worriedly as the angel wiped absently at the blood that was still running out of his nose and dripping from his tear ducts.

"If that thing shows up again, it's going to kill you, isn't it?" Dean asked objectively, watching the other man's face carefully.

Cas was silent for a moment, staring at the bloody hands in his lap, "I fear it very well might." He confirmed softly.

"All the more reason to get this thing on the road then, what do we need to do?" Dean initiated, crouching down opposite of Sam.

"First, take the fuzzy, neon pipe cleaners and use them to form a pentagram. Put that in the toe of the left shoe."

Dean grabbed the pipe cleaners and started fiddling with them while Sam got to work on taking his boot off. Finishing, the older sibling handed the pentagram over and watched his brother put it in place. After that was completed, they turned expectantly towards Cas.

Castiel's head was tilted back, resting against the crate behind him. His eyes were half-closed and looking glazed over. Dean and Sam exchanged a worried glance before moving forward to the angel's sides as he started listing to the right. Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him upright again while Dean cupped his face in his hands.

"C'mon Cas, wake up buddy. Gotta tell us what to do next. Snap out of it dude, we need you. Cas!" The older hunter shook the angel roughly and when that didn't work, he drew his arm back and slapped him as hard as he could. Castiel's head snapped to the side and Dean immediately cradled his hand to his chest, his face cringing in pain.

"You alright?" Sam asked concerned, eyes flickering over to his brother as he continued to hold Cas upright by his shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. Don't think anything's broken." Dean murmured, clenching his hand a few times before shaking the stinging sensation from it.

"You're a huge idiot Dean, when has hitting an angel ever helped anything?" Chided Sam, finally nailing the older man with a disapproving look.

"What else do you want me to do? Smack him upside the head with a frying pan?" Retorted the blond angrily.

Sam opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Cas chose that moment to start coming out of whatever trance-like state he was in. A loud groan escaped him as his head lolled down to his chest before it snapped up. Wide blue eyes searched feverently around the warehouse, freezing when they found the Winchester brothers.

"Hey, hey, easy there dude." Sam cautioned him, putting a large hand on his chest to stop him from leaning forward.

"The Big Face, where is it?" Grated Castiel as he resumed scanning the area around them.

"Not sure, but it isn't anywhere near here right now." Dean reassured the angel, whose attention snapped to him. The intensity of the look he was being given unnerved the hunter slightly, so he changed the subject, "Ok man, we got the pipe cleaner pentagram in the shoe, what do we do next?"

Cas titled his head to the side in the adorable fashion he always did when something confused him. It took a moment, but recognition finally sparked in his eyes.

"Ah yes, the ritual." He said aloud, "The purple Kool-aid must be mixed with the cream filling then smeared on top of the shoe."

"You know, as far as today is concerned, I really shouldn't still be shocked by how weird all of this is. And yet, I still am." Dean said absently as he pulled a couple packets of the purple Kool-aid out of his coat pocket. Sam followed suit by withdrawing several Twinkies from various pockets.

"How much of this mixture do we need to make?" The younger Winchester asked, keeping a careful eye on their ailed friend.

"A palm full should be enough for what we need." The angel explained gruffly, trying to shift himself more upright on the crate behind him. Dean noticed the movement and helped him.

While Dean got Cas more comfortable, Sam set to work on scraping out as much cream from the Twinkies as he could. With a wrapper full of the artery clogging of white goo, he held his hand out for the Kool-aid. Noticing the motion, Dean tossed a powder packet over to him. When the mixture was ready and smeared over the toe of the boot, both men waited for the angel to tell them the next step.

"Ne-" Castiel started, but stopped to clear his throat when his voice caught, "Next is the hardest part: We must figure out a way to obtain my tears."

"Did you tap into Jimmy's head to see what gets him to cry yet?" Sam asked objectivly.

"Yes, but I fear that will be as difficult as finding the onion Dean suggested."

"Why's that?" Inquired Dean, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

"It seems the only thing that will be guaranteed to make Jimmy cry, without putting his family in danger, is a film called 'Old Yeller'." Cas revealed, looking slightly bemused.

"Always figured Jimmy was sappy like that." Dean muttered with a small smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, well, now we got nothing to go on for getting angel tears, which I'm guessing is probably the most important part of this ritual." Sam, as expected, bitched.

"Well, we'll just have to figure something out then, now won't we? Trial and error, Sammy, think of it as a science experiment." Dean joked, reaching over to smack his brother's shoulder sportingly. Sam bitchfaced at him, but soon adopted his 'I've got my thinking cap on' look.

Dean turned to Cas, who regarded him with a calm stare. Without warning, the hunter reached out a flicked the smaller man as hard as he could on the nose. Castiel startled back at the unexpected blow, bringing a hand up to cover his face, eyes wide and watering. Pleased with the result, Dean quickly boxed the angel in the ear before he could stop another blow. Cas' other hand jumped up to cradle his now aching pinna. A single tear welled up over the lower lid of his right eye. Dean swiped it onto his fingertip, ignoring the wince on Cas' face when he reached his hand forward initially. He flicked the moisture onto the boot.

"Sorry man." He apologized, "Didn't actually think that would work since full on punching you usually ends with me breaking my hand on your face."

"It was necessary; I will not hold it against you."

"So is that going to be enough then?" Sam asked, bringing everyone back to the problem at hand.

"No." Was the simple answer.

"No?" Came the Double Mint twin inquiry.

"No." The angel reaffirmed.

"Then… What?" Dean asked, looking back and forth between his brother and Cas.

The group was quiet for a long moment, silently coming up with and immediately dismissing ideas. Suddenly Sam's face lit up briefly before he nailed Cas with a dirty look.

"You know Cas, for an angel, your wings aren't really impressive." He said without a hint of sarcasm, giving his brother a look that said 'play along'.

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, confused.

"Yeah, I mean, seriously dude. You're supposed to be a bad assed angel of the Lord, and yet, from what I've seen, they're kinds wimpy looking." Dean joined in, understanding where Sam was going with this, since he himself had used the tactic on him quiet often when they were younger.

"Neither of you have ever seen my actual wings; I don't understand where you are going with this."

"We've seen the shadows of them man, and I gotta say, in comparison to your body they seem a bit disproportionate." Sam continued with the teasing.

"They are not!" Squeaked Cas defensively.

"Oh, they are, aren't they?" Dean pounced on the chink in the angel's stoic emotions.

"So what, are they ugly or something?" Sam asked.

"I bet they're pink or purple or something. Maybe even glittery or bedazzled." Dean teased.

"No, no they are not!" Cas grated out, giving both the boys a half-hearted glare.

"They're probably super tiny, like a cartoon cupid's. Dinky little things that have to beat super fast, like a bee's, in order to get any lift. I'm surprised you don't buzz when you wing off somewhere dude." Continued Dean, trying to be as mean as possible.

"THEY'RE NOT TINY!" Shouted Cas, tears suddenly welling in his eyes, "In fact, they're bigger than most other angel's wings. It's not my fault they're overly large, okay? All the other angels in my garrison always made fun of them. They always tried to make me feel ashamed of them, but why should I be? Father had to have made them as big as they are for a reason. No one has ever understood that. Don't you start too!"

Tears were dripping down the angel's broken face as he sobbed. Dean and Sam shared a dumbfounded look, mouths hanging open.

"Seriously?" Dean managed finally. Cas sniffed wetly, his watery eyes drifting up to the hunter's face, his brow creasing in confusion slightly.

"Physical pain doesn't get you to cry, but essentially calling you Dumbo gets you to cry like a baby? There is something wrong with your head buddy." He continued.

Cas' lower lip trembled for a few seconds before he began to flat out bawl.

"Dude, get some of his tears!" Sam reminded Dean, prompting him into action. The older brother cupped a hand under Castiel's cheek, letting the warm tears collect in his palm. When he felt his hand was wet enough, he withdrew it and let the liquid drain onto the boot.

"Ok, that's done. Now what?"

"Cas, what do we need to do next?" Sam asked the still distraught angel, before looking up at his brother quick and adding, "Whatever it is, you're doing it, since it's going to involve your underwear." He held out the laces of the nasty boot for Dean to take. Dean rolled his eyes and took the offered object, setting it aside for the moment before turning back to Cas.

The angel had his hands up and covering his face as he continued to sob. He was now rocking back and forth slightly as well. Dean put a supportive hand on one of his trembling shoulders.

"Cas, c'mon man, snap out of it. We need to know what to do next."

His suggestion only brought on a fresh wave of tears and snot. The hair on the back of their necks stood up as an all too familiar warbling noise approached. They both cringed as Cas curled further into himself.

"What do we do?" Dean asked his little brother urgently. The younger man looked slightly panicked while he racked his brain for what to do.

Without needing to think, the older Winchester grabbed Cas' hands and forced them down, getting in his face, "Cas, we didn't mean anything we said about your wings, you know that. We just needed to get you to cry for this stupid ritual thing. We got more than enough now, so you can stop with the waterworks." He roughly shook the angel, finally getting his eyes to lock on his face, "You need to snap out of it. Your wings are perfect just the way they are. We had no right to say anything about them, no one does. If you like 'em, that's all that should really matter, ok?"

Cas' big, blue eyes blinked languidly a few times before he swallowed and nodded shortly.

"Alright, glad we got that cleared up. Now, what do we do next for this ritual?"

"Yo- Ahem- you must put the shoe into the underwear and swing it around your head five times while singing 'I'm a Little Tea Pot' before flinging it at the Big Face. That will cause it to implode on itself and return it to its own dimension." Cas' voice was strained from crying, but he sounded more like himself again.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Awesome." Grumbled Dean as he stood up, positioning Sam's boot in his boxer briefs, "All right, I'm gonna go find this thing and sing it a little song then I guess."

He started to walk away, but turned around when he heard someone scrambling to their feet combined with Sam's worried voice. He saw that Cas had somehow made his way to his feet, though he was leaning heavily on the crate he'd been propped up on before his ascent. Sam was standing next to him, hands bracing on his shoulders, holding him upright and back.

"Cas, just stay here and relax." Dean ordered him, hoping the angel would actually listen for once. He saw stubbornness flash across his face and knew it was a lost cause.

"Dean, I can draw the Big Face to us." Cas pointed out, swaying slightly before Sam steadied him.

"Yeah, I know. Which is exactly why I'm going to go find it, away from you. You look like shit as it is, and you're the one who said you couldn't last another round with it." Dean pointed out.

"I can call it here, and that way you will be able to have begun the ritual so that when it does show its, well, face, you will have the upper hand." Explained Cas, the strain of having to be patient with the hunter showing.

"I don't know…"

"It's the best way Dean, the only way." Cas persisted.

"Fine. We'll do it your way, but if you end up dead, it's not on my hands, you hear?" Dean threw his free hand up in the air in dismissal as he turned away and started pacing.

"So how you gonna go about getting that thing's attention then?" Sam asked quietly, helping the smaller man stand more upright.

"I need to let my grace flare, it's attracted to that, craves the power it could provide it." Castiel explained, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder to steady himself as he shoved off from the crate.

"How you going to do that?" Sam questioned.

"Watch and see." Cas actually smirked as he pushed away from the younger Winchester. His legs spread out wide as he braced himself on his own feet. He took a few deep breaths before arching his shoulders. A bright, white flash lit up the immediate area, but before it diminished, both Dean and Sam caught a glimpse of what had to be the angel's wings. Cas wasn't lying when he said they were big, but as Dean stared, trying his damndest not to blink, he was willing to say that they were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

And just like that, the wings vanished from sight. The Winchesters were left scrubbing at the black spots running across their vision after being exposed to such a bright light.

"Quickly Dean, begin the ritual." Cas ordered as he lowered himself unsteadily to the floor before his legs gave out completely. Sam was immediately behind him, pulling him back behind the stack of crates he'd been leaning against earlier.

"You know, this is totally part of the reason I wanted to go do this on my own." Dean grumbled to himself as he adjusted the shoe strings in his hand.

The warbling noise of the Big Face grew closer with every second, and Dean swallowed his pride and started the song.

"I'm A little tea pot," The hunter mumbled the lyrics, "Short and stout."

"Louder Dean." Demanded Cas hoarsely. Dean risked a glance at him, noting how pale the angel had suddenly gotten while blood had resumed flowing out of his nose. With an aggravated growl, Dean ground out the rest of the song.

"Here is my handle, here is my spout. When I get all steamed up, here me shout. Just tip me over and pour me out!"

Just as he finished the song, the Big Face appeared over the top of the crates stacked around them. It's disturbingly large and googly eyes flickered across the area before locking onto the boys' angel. The, what Dean could only assume, scream of victory ripped through the air, almost causing him to drop the boot.

Fumbling with it, he quickly regained his hold and began twirling it around his head. The Big Face lunged forward towards Cas, who pushed Sam, who was trying to cover him with his own body, away. The thing's mouth opened to an impossible width as it got closer to its prey. Cas, stared it down defiantly, unable to move or protect himself against this foe.

"Hey, ass hole!" Dean yelled at the thing. The Big Face paused mid-assault, stopping mere feet away from Castiel.

"Yeah, you ugly. Leave my angel alone and get the fuck out of here!" He continued, swinging the boot around his head five times before launching it at the thing's face, "Boot to the face, fucker!"

The Big Face screeched in agony as the footwear connected with it. It twisted impossibly on itself, the noise it was making causing even Dean's ears to start bleeding. Slowly, much like a piece of paper, its form folded together over and over again until it was nothing more than a large square. It floated for a few seconds in the air before bursting into tiny bits, spraying everywhere, much like confetti in fact. The almost celebratory flakes showered the hunters and their angel like it was midnight in Times Square on New Year's Eve.

There was silence for a moment, both hunters unable to accept that the Big Face was actually gone after such a ridiculous display as that.

"No way. That's it?" Sam voiced what they were both thinking.

"Well that was a bit… anticlimactic." Added Dean sardonically.

A groan from between them startled them, reminding them of the third member of their posse. Cas had slouched down to the floor once more, his energy obviously drained after his last stand against their deadly foe. His face was covered in blood, both dried and fresh. One of his eyes was glued shut by the coagulating liquid and he looked about ready to pass out at any moment.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean shouted in alarm as the angel started slumping over, grabbing him before he could introduce his face to the floor, "I gottcha buddy, we're good now, kicked that fucker back to Timbuktu."

There was a curious head tilt in response to the explanation, but Dean just smiled and ruffled the angel's hair affectionately. A grumpy huff escaped the smaller man's lips. Signaling Sam forward, Dean pulled one of Cas' arms over his shoulders and indicated for his little brother to do the same. The boys stood together, hauling the semi-conscious celestial up with them.

"Feel f'nny." Castiel slurred slightly as he wobbled between the boys.

"Well seeing as your brain just about got scrambled by that thing, feeling funny is probably an understatement."

"Sh't up."

"Well look who decided to find their sassy streak."

"Up y'rs."

"I think I like this side of you man. What do you think Sam?" Dean asked his brother with a joking grin. Sam just shook his head and started leading them towards an exit without a word.

"Hey, let's stop for some pie on the way back to the motel." Suggested Dean in the wake of his stomach growling obnoxiously loud.

"Do you ever think about anything other than your stomach?" Sam asked incredously, shaking his head at his sibling.

"Women." Dean offered smugly.

"Lies." Grumbled Cas weakly as he attempted to drag his feet in a fashion similar to a drunken sailor walking down a dock.

"Ok, time for you to shut-up Cas." Dean quickly put his free hand over Cas' mouth to stop him from saying anything further.

"No, do go on Cas. What do you mean by that?" Sam asked, both out of curiosity and also cause he knew the answer would give him ammo to use against his big brother in the future.

The angel shook Dean's hand off his face, "He thinks about me. Told me so after he kissed me the other night. He was fairly intoxicated, but there was truth to his words and actions."

"Oh my God!" Exclaimed Sam in dumbfounded surprise, snorting while he laughed so hard he almost dropped Cas.

"Shut-up Samantha!" Growled Dean, his cheeks burning red in embarrassment. Leave it to Castiel to just blurt something like that in front of his brother.

"Liked it." Murmured Cas softly before going completely limp, his dead weight pulling both hunters down with him.

"Son of a bitch!"

**Note to my regular readers: Firstly, I apologize for my lack of updating anything substancial in the last month or so. Between writer's block, being scared shitless by one of my own stories, lack of inspiration, applying for school and getting a new job I honestly haven't had time to focus on writing like I wish I could. I promise though, by the end of the month or the beginning of November, I will have updates for Hands Held High, multiple pieces for The Song That Never Ends, and if I'm feeling brave, the next part of Compromise Your Reality.**

**Once again, I'm sorry for not being as active with my updates lately.**


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